Full Empty

Uncomfortably Full / Agonizingly Empty

I paced in circles, naked in a worn-out motel. The room was old and dingy and the furniture was chipped and tired. I squished my toes in the carpet, an old 1970's style brown shag carpet. It was dirty and matted with age. It stuck to my bare feet as I stepped.

I tried desperately to ignore that pit in my stomach. My gut was telling me that this was a big mistake, that I shouldn't be here, that I shouldn't do what I knew I was going to do. But I ignored it. I was in too deep. Like the rest of my life, it was no longer within my control. I was helpless and resigned to what I was going to do.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. It startled me. I moved closer to the mirror, staring at my own face. My god, had I truly fallen this far? My skin was a pale, almost sickly-looking, and the lines in my face seemed deeper than ever before. But what scared me most were my eyes. They were sunken, lifeless, and dark with loneliness and despair. The years had caught up to me. Demands from work, demands from home, it all seemed unending. Trapped in a loveless, sexless marriage with no way out, I couldn't remember the last time I felt connected to another person. The emptiness ached in my belly with no end in sight. I yearned for human contact of any kind, desperate for someone, something to fill the void, if only for a few hours. Dreams of some fairy tale life were shatter long ago. I would have to be content now with an anonymous stranger who would use my body, fuck me, and leave me satiated temporarily with fleeting moments of human interaction.

Not wanting to sink further into despair, I turned away from the mirror quickly and grabbed my cell phone to check the time. He would be here soon. I retraced our meeting, all preserved in the Internet age. It started with his ad on Craigslist, "MASCULINE, HUNG TOP, 48, DRUG/DISEASE FREE, SEEKING HUNGRY BOTTOM – DISCRETION A MUST." His ad, which did not say much more, had a picture of his torso from his chest to the top of his thighs. He was thick and muscular, hairy but not too much. But what had me transfixed, what led me to this motel room, was his magnificent cock. It was massive, starting with a thick patch of dark brown hair, and jutting out from his body nearly nine inches with a gentle upward curve. The head was large and bulbous and his balls hung between his legs. In the picture, his hand was wrapped around his cock and his fingers could barely close around it. The minute I saw that picture, I knew I wanted it in me.

We traded five or six emails and texts. He told me he was a cop and that he required complete discretion. I had to follow his every direction. He told me which motel to go to, and even which room to take. But his last message was most puzzling. After I told him that I had gotten the room he wanted, he responded with a one line text:

on my way. b naked whn I get there or I leave

As instructed, I removed my clothes, draping them neatly over the chair. Fastidious about my appearance, I showered and cleaned myself for him thoroughly.

Minutes later, I heard a motorcycle pull into the parking lot and park in front of the door to this room. Then, I heard his knock. Hard. Forceful. Commanding. I peeked through the eyehole and saw him. He was massive, clearly a former football player, who could still give younger men a run for their money. He stood against the door in his dark green motorcycle cop uniform. Fuck, was he sexy! He pounded the door again and yelled, "Open the door now, or I'm leaving!"

I opened the door a crack and peered out from the side. I was self-conscious and did not want anyone else to see me naked. His voice was harsh, "I said ... open the fucking door, NOW!"

With that he pushed the door wide open, grabbed my wrist and yanked me to the sidewalk outside of the motel room. I cowered, scared and ashamed by my now-public nudity. He turned me around, looking me up and down like a piece of meat. He barked for me to wait there, and entered the room alone, closing the door behind him and leaving me there, naked on the sidewalk. I could hear a few cars from the nearby street honking at me and, as I stood on the catwalk, a small Mexican housekeeper pushed her cleaning cart out of the room next door. Our eyes met and I could feel her sadness for me. I choked back tears of humiliation.

I could hear him rummaging through the room. A few minutes later, he opened the door and ordered me, "Get in." I stepped into the room and he slammed the door shut behind me. "You probably don't get this, do you?," he said. "I needed to check you and this room to make sure you weren't some psycho queer, who wants to kill me and eat my dead cock for dessert." He paused, "You're not a psycho, are you." Still frightened, all I could manage to do was shake my head, no. He laughed. "Good, then we'll get along just fine."

He threw my clothes from the chair onto the floor and carefully removed his gun belt and shoulder radio, hanging them both on the chair. "Do NOT fucking touch these! Do you understand me?"

I whispered meekly, "Yessir."

"Good," he said, as he plopped onto the bed. I watched as he undressed. First, he unzipped those heavy motorcycle boots and pulled off his socks. He unbuttoned his shirt and hung it on the chair. He pulled off the white tank top undershirt he wore and also hung that on the chair. He unzipped and removed his pants and then rose to his feet. Almost smirking at me, he hooked the elastic of his boxers with his thumbs and dropped those to the floor as well.

I gasped. He was incredible. Barely semi-erect, he had to be almost eight inches. He stood there like a god, as if he wanted me to worship at his feet. I had never seen anything close to it. Even soft, the head was massive, a thick knob of flesh. He took it into his fist and pumped it a few times. It began to swell and grow. As his cock grew, he ordered me, "Get over here, boy. Let me see how you suck a man-sized cock. Better yet, crawl over here on all fours, like a bitch."

Confused, I took a step towards him. Angry, he yelled, "What the fuck do you think you're doing? I said crawl, motherfucker! A bitch walks on four legs, not two." Humiliated, I began to cry softly and dropped to all fours. In shame, I crawled across the worn carpet, stopping at his feet. "Good boy," he said. "Now, come up here and suck my cock."

I rose to my knees, drawing close to his cock. I could smell him, a musky, heavy odor, pungent and manly. I opened my mouth and licked the length of his shaft, swirling around his head with my tongue. I lowered my mouth to lick him again. But before I could lick him, I felt his palm smash against the side of my face. Dazed, I fell to the floor. "Get the fuck up! I didn't say lick my dick, I said SUCK IT!" He pulled me from the carpet by hair. "Try it again, bitch," he ordered, pulling my face onto his cock by my hair. He shoved himself deep into my throat, gagging me. I could not breathe. I struggled against him, but he was too strong. The tears streamed down my cheeks as that thick knob closed my windpipe. After several seconds, he released me. I coughed and choked, gasping for air. He barked at me, "Now, bitch, that's how you suck a cock. Do it again, cock whore."

He pulled my face back onto his cock. I was better prepared for the assault, gagging less. He pushed his cock deep into my throat. Again, I couldn't breathe. Tears streamed down my face as he pushed in even further until my nose was nestled in his pubic hair. Struggling to find something, anything, to focus on, I caught my reflection in the full length mirror once again. There I was, on my knees on the ratty carpeting, tears streaking my face. My face was twisted and contorted around the massive cock. I looked away in shame. As he grinded my nose in his pubic hair, I stretched my mouth wider and, extending my tongue, I lapped at his balls. He moaned with ecstasy, releasing the handfuls of my hair. I pulled away for a moment, still choking and spitting, gulping mouthfuls of air.

Freed from his grip, I was resigned to my position as his cock whore. There was no turning back. "No" simply was not an option. I sucked hard on his cock, taking him in deeply. I began to bounce my mouth up and down on his cock. Fuck, he tasted so good. Even with all of his abuse, I could not help but love the way that thick cock felt in my mouth. I loved the way it filled my mouth and stretched my throat. I loved the way it smelled and tasted. I loved being on my knees servicing him. I continued to move my face into him, taking him in deeper and deeper into my throat. "Mmmmmm," he groaned. "Fuck, yes, bitch. Suck that cock." We began to move in rhythm. He would lift his hips to meet my mouth. I began to moan softly, enjoying the first tastes of his precum and the feel of his cock in my throat. I began to move faster and faster rolling his massive, cock head over my tongue with each thrust. He was fucking my face and I loved it.

Just as our pace was quickening, he grabbed my hair again. He pushed in hard again, cutting off my air. I struggled for air until he released me and pulled my mouth off of his cock. As I coughed, a thin strand of saliva mixed with his precum extended from his cock to my lower lip. He stood up and said, "You suck cock like a good little slut, that's for sure. Now, let's see how you fuck. Get on the bed, boy." I stood up and started towards the bathroom. "Where the fuck are you going, now?" he asked.

Sheepishly, I answered, "Ummm, I was getting a condom and some lube."

He cackled. "Condom? You don't want to use a condom. I can tell already that. You love cum, in your mouth or up your ass. A bitch like you wants to feel it raw. Don't you?" I hung my head in embarrassment and nodded in silent agreement. "And the lube? Are you fucking kidding me? Shut up and get on the fucking bed."

Obediently, I climbed onto the bed. I lay down on my back and pulled my ankles up. I always preferred to face my lover as we fuck. Again, he was angry. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? I don't want to look into your eyes. That's how I fuck my wife, the mother of my children. Bitches like you get fucked from behind. Now, get on all fours."

I rolled over and pulled myself up on my knees. He climbed onto the bed and told me, "Spread your cheeks." I reached back and spread my ass wide. I heard him make several deep sounds in his throat and then felt him spit right onto me. He smeared his spit right onto my hole, shoving two thick fingers into me, stretching me uncomfortably. I pulled away. He grabbed my hips and pulled me back. "Now, listen carefully. You're not the first bitch I've torn wide open. Feel free to scream. No one cares. I know the owner and he knows I'm a cop." His voice dripped with cruelty.

He rose to his knees and positioned himself behind me. He retched again and spit onto my asshole, smearing the thick spit around my hole with the head of his cock. With his massive hands on my hips, he pulled me back until I could feel the tip of his cock against me. He pushed into me. I could feel my tight, puckered hole being stretched. I bit down hard, but the pain was overwhelming. I could feel his head enter me, the thick ridge passing into me. I groaned in agony.

As he entered me, I could feel his fingers tightening on my hips. His grip was like a vice. I could feel the tiny blood vessels under my skin breaking from his force. I could not move he held me so tightly. I felt him withdraw slightly as he inhaled deeply. Then with a forceful exhale, he thrust into me. I screamed in agony. I was being torn wide open. He pulled out and then slammed in again. The pain was immeasurable. I screamed again, but the sound was weaker. My body was completely wracked with pain. My intestines immediately began to cramp and I felt nauseous. A cold sweat dripped from my forehead as I struggled not to lose consciousness.

He settled into a rhythm. Long deep strokes. Slowly, I recovered from the initial assault. My muscles relaxed and I could feel every vein and bump along his shaft as it entered me. He loosened his grip on my hips, allowing me to move naturally with him. Every few strokes, he would push into me hard. Reduced to a battered, fuck doll, I would just grunt like an animal as I backed onto his cock. "Mmmmmm, fuck," he moaned. "I just knew you were the kind of bitch who needed to be fucked hard."

He pulled out of me and stood up on the bed. He stepped over me, straddling my hips. He pointed his cock downward at my now-stretch, raw hole. Lowering his hips, he entered me again. Now accustomed to his size, I moaned deeply as he pushed in. Slowly, he would rise and lower himself into me, pumping in and out like a piston. The bed shook as he quickened his pace. From this angle, he could push in even deeper. Although my body ached, I could feel my orgasm approach. My asshole began to quiver and my thighs shook involuntarily. I groaned deeply, but almost effeminately. "Mmmmm, yes, yes, yes," I panted. As he pushed into me, I orgasmed hard. My asshole tightened around his shaft as I came.

He continued to fuck me through my climax. He pumped hard and faster. The headboard crashed against the wall with each thrust. Thud. Thud. Thud. He sunk his cock into me, groaning, lost in his own pleasure. He pushed in faster and faster, harder and harder. As my own second orgasm approached, I could feel his rise from deep within his balls. I could feel him getting harder, his head swelling in me.

Completely lost in his climax, he slammed into me over and over. The headboard pounded the cheap drywall, chips of paint flying everywhere. "Fuck yes," he growled. "I'm going to fill that man pussy of yours." He slammed into me with one final, deep thrust. I felt his cock twitching inside me, my own asshole squeezing around him in a second, final orgasm. His warmth filled my bowels. He shook hard as the final waves of his climax passed through him. He remained plugged in me for several second afterwards, as he caught his breath.

After recovering, he pulled out of me with an audible pop. I slumped to the bed as he climbed off of me. I curled in a ball, battered, bruised and filled with shame. As a final insult, he reached over and pulled my ass cheeks open. I could feel the air entering me. He pushed two thick fingers into me but they barely made contact with the sides of my hole, which had been stretched wide. He chuckled, "Fuck, boy. Your asshole is gaping three inches wide." I barely groaned, too weary to respond.

He walked over to the sink. I watched him soap up that massive cock and wash it. He dried himself and began to dress. I just lay there in silence as he dressed into his uniform. As he ready to leave, he turned to me one last time. "Call me when you need to be fucked again." He opened the door and left me alone in the motel room, which now stunk of our sex.

I just lay there. I was trembling. My body ached and my mind was numb. I hated myself, angry that I had loved his cruelty. As I pulled the worn motel covers over my naked body, I could feel the loneliness growing in my belly again. I cried to myself softly. How could I be so full of cum, yet feel so empty. I sobbed myself to sleep.

I woke several hours later, just as the sun was beginning to set. Everything hurt. I pulled myself out of the bed and gingerly walked to the mirror. I was horrified by my own reflection. A small bruise had formed on my cheek where he had slapped me, and purple-black fingerprint bruises dotted my hips where he had grabbed and held me. I could feel my insides begin to drip. His cum leaked from my still open hole. I attempted to walk quickly into the bathroom, a trail of semen spotting the carpet as I walked.

I stepped into the shower. The hot water soaked into my battered skin. I squatted and pushed down hard, forcing his cum out of me. The thick, yellow-white semen swirled around the shower drain and disappeared. I cleaned myself, letting the steam soak into my skin, soothing my muscles. As the shower turned cold, I turned off the water. I dried myself carefully and dressed slowly, wincing as I brushed against my bruises. Although it was difficult to walk, I managed to waddle to the motel office and return the key.

I eased into my car, sitting in silence for several minutes before starting the engine. Loneliness enveloped me. As full as I had been, I felt so empty. As I readied to pull out of the lot, my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the number.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end was not familiar. "Hey, you had sent me this number, responding to my ad. Are you still looking to fuck?"

I could still feel the pain in my ass and intestines. "Ummm, well, I don't think I can fuck right now."

The voice on the other end sounded disappointed, "Well, that's ok, I guess. You want to just come over and suck my cock. You know, a dump and go."

Swallowing hard, I gave up. "Yeah sure, a dump and go. I can be there in twenty minutes."

I pulled out of the lot. As I merged into traffic, I could feel another gob of semen ooze from deep inside me and a gooey, humiliating mess my underwear. As I drove to my next cock, I hoped that the next faceless, nameless stranger might fill my emptiness.